


and I turned and found you

by goldfinchex (orphan_account)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 15:21:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2817020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/goldfinchex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day is filled with odd little turns. Loki as he turns and runs through campus, and bumps into someone he never thought that he would ever meet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and I turned and found you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DeathMeetsLife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathMeetsLife/gifts).



> Hello, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! Mischief and Mistletoe 2013 for DeathMeetsLife, an AU, as requested. Something I don't think I've fulfilled is the 'well written' bit so I'm apologising in advance for giving you such a shoddy, uninspired present in this lovely season (and if I hadn't signed up you might've gotten a much better fic...). I was going to write another fic (that even in the drawing room phase thing, looks much better) but well I've pretty much exhausted my deadline + oh dear lords I've been accepted into the world of jobs-paying-the-equivalent-of-minimum-wage.  
> Anyway, fic aside, I hope everyone's holidays are filled with cheer, and that you guys are enjoying the snow if you get snow!

Loki was stretched languidly across the lush green grass, the thick tome of _War and Peace_ in his hands as he perused it with an intensity his few friends called uncanny, bothering on creepy. He didn’t really care for those comments; he wasn’t ‘easily distracted’, at the very least.

Above him, Natasha Romanov was perched atop a tree, earphones plugged in to something decidedly not Russian as she flipped through a magazine. He was  always greatly amused by the way his friend and roommate of two years washed her hands clean of everything stereotypically Russian that even her last name was corrupted in the process.  

His concentration was broken when she crunched loudly into an apple, and he looked up at her, annoyed. She could’ve just as easily chewed on it softly, as Natasha was usually wont to do, courtesy of her dream of becoming a ballerina in her childhood: always act the part of grace and poise.

“I didn’t walk all the way up the hill to be distracted by another human.” No one came up that hill, usually.

“Ahh, but you dragged me up, Loki dearest.” He only scowled further and looked down at his book.

“Must be nice, being able to taste apples,” he remarked; he missed the taste of apples. Once, he had adored them.

“Sorry,” he could hear the shrug in her voice. “But if I were you, I’d be heading down to the clubs or cafes or whatever place with actual people. The exams are over Loki, can’t you chance a meeting with people? Besides, you’ve already read _War and Peace_ seven times. You’re a damned law student, not a Russian Lit major! Come on, maybe you’ll meet _the one_. ”

“Urgh.” He rolled his eyes. “Don’t get sappy, especially _not_ about that winter princess.”

She leapt off the tree, landing gracefully in beside him. “Come on green-eyed princess. Maybe you’ll finally regain your sense of smell.”

“Hardly. The universe hates me.”

“You hate the universe. And _you_ can’t be enemies with the universe. I’m pretty sure the professors have already written ‘Loki Odinson’ on the certificate for our year’s _summa cum laude_.”

He raised a brow. “That’s probably because it’s not been particularly good to me. You do realise that Loki Odinson didn’t start off at life all miserable and a menace to everyone else but you, maybe. You understand that you are an extremely likely candidate for the distinction, do you not?”

She mirrored his expression. “Awards aside, do you really plan to reach your second Christmas as the next Grinch?”

He shrugged. “Perhaps. With things as they are, I will continue eating food that tastes like tofu till my dying breath. Professor Fury has said that some people will never meet their soul mate, and that it was perfectly fine. There’re other pleasures to be gained from life other than mere smell and taste.”

He looked down at his hands, pale and long-fingered, as they rested upon his book. He knew touch, sight and hearing. That would be enough. He loved his books, he loved the words in them, and he loved the way the words played on his tongue—was that not enough?

He shut his eyes.

_You’re so utterly vain, Loki! Ha, I knew you would like the earrings I have gotten for you! Hey, Loki, you look good in that green jumper, where did you get it?_

He remembered how he liked the way they coaxed his ego, and how he delighted in praises. Words would be enough for Loki.

“Remember Flowers of Algernon, from high school? How can you live without two of your major senses for the rest of your life if you’ve experienced it for the first half of your life?”

“Pre-pubescent Loki _does not_ comprise the first half of Loki’s life.” He wrinkled his nose, as if disgusted by the fact. Dissociating himself from bright-eyed Loki was key to his mental wellbeing. “It is worse than saying that Natalia Alianovna was the foundation of your personality.”

“It’s part of who I am today.”

He sighed. “ _Que sera sera_. Let it go, Natasha.”

He didn’t need to look at her to feel the glare on him. “You’ve not dated anyone for two years. Look at you, you pretty boy. We’re in _college_. Not everyone’s met their soul mates yet, you could be the other halve to one of them! Once we leave college, the chances of you meeting the one the universe intended for you will be so slim that even I won’t be able to squeeze through that tiny crack.” The weight of her glare fades and her voice softens. “As your friend, I’m worried for you.”

“I don’t need a pity party.”

“I never knew a member of the _Equus africanus asinus_ would be a potential candidate for the best student of Culver’s law faculty. It seems that Culver’s standards have greatly declined—a pity.”

 She looked down at her phone for a moment before an amused smile played across her face. “And, as your friend, I feel obliged to inform you that James has just texted to warn you that ‘We’re coming to town, love, Steve.’” 

He shot to his feet, his book abandoned on the grass. “ _What_? _When_?”

“You heard me, pretty green-eyed boy. The star-spangled All-American is coming to Culver with the Thunderer. Let’s see, your dentist appointment is at two in the afternoon. Or, if you’re finally caving to my suggestion, Carol's going to be free in the afternoon for a lunch date.”

He gave her a look, but the panic in his eyes negated its effect. She finally gave him a sympathetic glance, a rarity for her. “Apparently...  he’s here already.”

“Fuck,” He swore. “Mother didn’t tell me, damn it.” He wrung his hands.

_I don’t want to see Thor. I don’t want to be fucking reminded of the humiliation two Christmases ago. No, no, no. Could I avoid this? Yeah, you can, right? Natasha’s your friend. Run back to the apartment. You’ll be safe there. Okay, I can leave. If I run, I’d probably miss Thor._

“I can hear your thoughts from here. Go on, escape.” She didn’t call him a coward, but he knew that she currently believed him one. “If it’s any comfort, they’re here to see James, not you.”

“Tell the Winter Princess’ friends that I’m ill, or something. Or maybe a dental appointment—not that I actually need one.”

“Little Silvertongue’s at a loss for words! I never thought I’ll see the day. Additionally, you’re insulting James, and that’s you being rude and I’ll be less inclined to convey the message. Be polite. But I’ve got to admit, he looks fantastic skating on ice.”

“Ye of little sympathy.”

_She **will** tell the Winter Princess. Calm, Loki. Do not panic further. It is childish to panic. Have some control over your emotions. _

She laughed. “Bye, Loki-of-the-perfectly-white-and-straight-teeth. I’ll say you’re busy tutoring some nerd-who-seriously-studies-overtime at our apartment. Dental appointments are only half an hour. Come up with a better excuse.”

He gave her a tentative almost-smile as he nodded before scooping up his book and dashed down the hill towards the direction of their shared apartment.

Natasha laughed. Loki didn’t have his keys. She jogged after him.

*

Never let it be said that Loki could not run quickly. But let it be said that Loki without all his usual mental control has little potential for the position of premier danseur.

Loki arrived at the bottom of the hill, looked around wildly at the sound of a car pulling into the parking lot a short distance away from him, realised that it was not his brother’s car, and sped along the pavement towards his shared apartment with Natasha.

As he glanced backwards at the school building, he slammed into someone. Someone decidedly soft and female. His eyes widened as he caught a whiff of deodorant, but his mind didn’t register what that _meant_ as he slipped out an automatic ‘sorry!’ before picking up his fallen book—Loki thought that the already worn copy of _War and Peace_ was taking a lot of damage today—and continued his mad sprint to his house. For safety.

*

The female he had knocked down lay on the ground, stunned. Her hazel eyes stared after the disappearing figure, watching the way his thick inky hair slapped up and down on his neck as he ran.

She noted that he was well dressed. Okay, maybe a little _too_ formal for a lovely summer’s day, especially one that was meant for relaxation instead of classes.  _Who in the universe wears a dress pants and a shirt in the middle of August? And the weather’s especially hot today._

 _But oh, he smelt fantastic._ Not that she actually knew what ‘good’ smelt like, having lost everything to do with olfaction system.But they said that when you met your soul mate, it was as if your universe was made right again, that you’d revolve around each other; the feeling was frequently compared to how a blind man seeing the sun for the first time.

Her heart began to sink slightly. If he _was_ her soul mate: were they fated to cross paths but this one time? She blinked as he disappeared from her view. She didn’t even get a proper glimpse of him. ‘Fair-skinned and dark-haired’ was very little to go by. ‘A voice that would sing the song of angels’ was too vague. She nearly scowled. She wasn’t about to wax poetry, soul mate or not.

“He’s rude, isn’t he?”

A redhead (that seemingly appeared out of nowhere though Sif knew she must’ve been distracted) walked towards her, jerking her unceremoniously out of her thoughts and she started. The redhead’s black shoes made no noise and she offered a hand. Sif took it, allowing the surprisingly strong arm to pull her up. Sif could feel her legs trembling, just a little, but they trembled all the same.

If Sif was a lesser person, she would be cowering under the redhead’s gaze, that strangely scrutinising gaze. If the guy was ‘rude’, what was she? But Sif was Sif and she stared into those prying eyes, full of curiosity and something else she couldn’t identify.

For a moment, she wondered if the guy was with her. Irrational jealousy flared in her chest, but she tried ignoring it. After all, it wasn’t as if she was purity incarnate. Everyone dated before they met their soul mates.

She ignored her question, and decided to ask, “Who is he?”

“My roommate. I’m Natasha, by the way. And you’ve just met the biggest idiot in the universe. Congratulations.”

Sif’s eyes narrowed at Natasha, who only smirked in return _._

Natasha gave a laugh. “Looks like your soul mate forgot his keys.” She jingled a set of keys in front of her. “I would invite you to the apartment, but he’ll probably throw a knife at my head, or yours, for that matter. But I’m the likely target. Not that it’ll hit me, but still.”

“Wait—“

“It’s obvious, girl. You looked as if the universe just crashed at your feet. Trust me; the universe conspires, a lot. And if it’s been horrid enough to match you with _him_ , it’ll have other redeeming factors. Now, if you’ll give me your name...”

“Sif,” she said quickly, blinking at the sudden question.  

“Pleasure. Now if you will excuse me, I need to save his sorry ass.”

“Aren’t you going to tell me his name?” She tried a glare.

“No. You’ll have to find out for yourself. Goodbye!” Natasha ran off, ignoring Sif’s yells of ‘wait!’, and Sif could only scowl further.

Damn it.

*

Loki lay groaning on the sofa. 

“That was shitty of you,” Natasha finally said.

“I know. Mother would be ashamed of me. Can we order pizza tonight?”

“No. _You_ are going to go out. The ‘Winter Princess’ is refusing to make excuses for you in light of you calling him the ‘Winter Princess’, so you and I are going to head _out_ to the bar and eat something outside. Who knows, you might like the sparkling odour of the dumpster. Besides, I _know_ how you eat pizza—a knife and fork. You’re a complete creep. Hear me Loki Odinson, you’re an utter weirdo!”

“I hate you. And sparkling odour is only valid in The Great Gatsby.” He hated how petulant he sounded. And what was wrong with eating pizza with cutlery? He was not a savage cretin, thank you very much.

“Hate you back.” Natasha hummed, affecting a serene mask.

*

Loki fidgeted in the worn leather seat. Leather seats were tacky, and the wear and tear was so blatantly and terribly obvious. Clad in an all black outfit that Natasha had grumbled about being ‘terrible for his colour’, Loki was the very picture of a mournful I-just-lost-my-soul-mate sort of guy. Of course, it was his fault.

Maybe getting your sense of smell back was a curse after all. Loki sat in a corner, and Barnes had said that he was ‘sulking’, but in reality, he was merely trying to enjoy his drink and chips without the oh so malodorous scent of Thor-and-company’s post Ultimate-Frisbee-in-the-sun sweat. 

He knew he shouldn’t have come, shouldn’t have let Natasha persuade him to abandon the relative safety of the apartment. Thor had given him a wide smile, an ‘all was forgiven’ kind of smile that Loki could not stand. Thor had the audacity to _hug_ him, his palms sticky and his hair slightly damp, grossing him out. _Rogers_ , of all people, had said he was prissy and fastidious.

Loki frowned; he did not expect it from Steven Rogers. If Stark was here, Tony would’ve said it, he supposed. Maybe Rogers wasn’t all wholly uninfluenced in his ivory tower after all. Loki thought that he was not at all ‘prissy and fastidious’, just neat. 

“Loki! Natalia’s been telling me that you’ve been calling me the Winter Princess. Do you have a bone to pick with me or something?” Barnes was _always_ grinning.

“No,” he groused. “Leave me be, James Barnes.”

“No can do, little Loki.”

“We’re in the same graduating class.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” Barnes dragged Loki to his feet.

At least he was semi-clean; his palms were dry. With his left arm in a sling, broken in a game of ice hockey, Ultimate Frisbee wasn’t a viable activity for him, and Loki did not want to think about what Barnes would do in his free time. 

“Natalia has also said that you’ve met _the one_. Aww. Little Loki’s found his soul mate; you’re all grown up now. But you’ve blundered it up majorly man.”

“Shut up.”

“Running from her? Really?”

“You’re one to speak.”

Barnes laughed, mimed zipping his lips up, locking it, and throwing away the key. “No one else will know.” Barnes pushed him into the crowd of ridiculously unhygienic people. Loki protested, but even with only a right arm, Barnes was still stronger. “Now, mingle.”

Loki held back a laugh he knew would come out ridiculously high-pitched in his incredulity. ‘ _Mingle’, really Barnes_?

He dreadfully wanted to be sequestered among the tacky leather seats again, but he Natasha and Barnes were glaring at him.

He looked around desperately. Thor was laughing boisterously. Aha, Jane Foster. He could talk to Jane Foster. She was human, kind of. She was nice. She was not the worst conversation partner. She was not as bad as the star-spangled Rogers. She would not spout patriotic doctrine at him. Oh, who was he fooling? Jane Foster was only capable of nice words, physics, or a punch to his face—  

Someone swung at his face and Loki quickly swerved out of the way.

_What in the name of Hel? Had he offended someone?_

“You’re Loki,” she said his name like an accusation.

Loki looked up at her and the sharp word that he had armed his tongue with dying instantaneously, suddenly forgiving her for her violence and rudeness as he mouthed, ‘ _beautiful’_. If he was not as distracted as he was, he would have flushed in embarrassment.

As it was, he might have forgotten what it was to breathe as he looked at her, watching the way her hazel eyes seemed to glow even in the dim light of the bar, and a hand moved involuntarily to brush the strands of black hair away from her face to reveal her sharp cheekbones and strong jaw line. He was drawn inexplicably to her, and he hated how the world seemed to suddenly centre on her. The universe had a cruel way with jokes, but he knew that he would have traded his last breath to look at this woman in all her unwavering ferocity.

“You.” Her voice was still sharp in accusation, but he was Loki and well versed in the art of conversation; he could hear the slight tremble in her voice.

“Yes, me. Hello, my lady. May I inquire after your name?”

She choked back _something_ , something that was a mix of incredulity and anger. “Natasha was right. You’re terribly rude. And I’m no one’s lady.”

He agreed with her, Natasha was usually right—she brought him here, after all. He didn’t even remember to be annoyed with her for calling him rude.

“The pot tends to call the kettle black. I do apologise—for knocking you down earlier.”

“And you’re not apologising for claiming me as your possession?” She arched an eyebrow that his fingers twitched as he restrained himself from touching them, refusing to further infuriate her. “And are you calling _me_ rude?”

“I did not intend it that way. And no, of course not, I was referring to Natasha. But you happen to be the lady the universe has intended me for, you see. I would not have minded a lord, but as it is, the universe has paired me with this lovely lady in front of me, whose name I have yet to receive.”

She sighed, finally relenting. He spied the twinkle in her eyes. “Sif. I’m Sif.”

“Loki.”

“I presume you’d hate it if I called you _Thor’s brother_?”

“It is but a truth of my life. Thor seems to insist that I be a part of his life.”

He would rather her not know him as Thor’s brother, of course. His mind drew the conclusions: she came to Culver with Thor, she was Thor’s friend. Was it envy for his brother, that his brother had met his soul mate first, instead of him?

“That he does,” she gave him a wolfish grin. He rather liked it. “He has mentioned you, once or twice.”

“Oh?”

“The raven-haired little brother, full of mischief and jokes in your youth. The boy who escaped to Culver, to be away from him, but he affectionately termed you _Silvertongue_. Is that a truth?” The name he had long earned rolled of her tongue smoothly, and he was drawn closer to her. His eyes widened as her hand threaded through her hair.

“I will be yours, if you please. When does Thor ever lie?” He gave her a similar grin. He might not be on perfect terms with his adoptive brother, but he could not deny the Thunderer’s virtues, especially not when he needed his name to back up his credibility.

 “I would propose that we leave the bar, for some place quiet. Culver does have certain spots that I like to retreat to. It’s not Stanford University, by any means, but it’s pretty scenic all the same. Would my lady care to come with me?” He offered his hand, bowing slightly like how he had watched his father bow for his mother in his childhood.

“Certainly.” She took his hand, and leaned forward to speak by his ear. “Your friends are watching, so if you are interested in some fresh air, let’s leave _now_.”

“As my lady commands.”

They left the bar. Loki smiled as turned to her and inhaled her scent deeply; he knew he’d commit it to memory soon enough. There was no one else like her. 


End file.
